The VincentxTifa Parody Fic
by Darknightdestiny
Summary: [Oneshot?][Vincent x Tifa] I've written so much VinTif I could dole out cavities. Maybe I should stop taking them so seriously...


**The VincentxTifa Parody Fic**

Rachel "D" Winslow

It was an early afternoon at Junon's Seventh Heaven. Tifa was relaxing with some of her old comrades before the bar opened; she liked to open late, when she knew she'd be busy, instead of paying her staff for the small trickle of customers that might make an appearance right after lunch. Besides, an empty bar is more conducive to the plot.

'Wait, why Junon?' you ask. 'Surely, our heroes would enjoy a brighter, sunnier, stress-free environment; perhaps Costa del Sol?'

Well, you see, Junon was a very busy port, teaming with travellers on business, who provided Tifa with a large income. The group would have loved to settle in a place like Costa del Sol, but the beach was not all it was cracked up to be. Small businesses like Seventh Heaven would be easily crushed under the weight of the corporate restaurant and hotel chains that were crowding the resort, and Tifa was not fond of the clientel. Clueless tourists smelling of old sunscreen littered the beaches, not to mention the waterpark down the street, and she was not prepared to compete with waitresses who wore even less than she did. Spoiled and irresponsible spring breakers were not her cup of tea, and to top it all off, the Buccaneers kept losing, and the Devil Rays were a total disgrace.

On this particular day, Yuffie was bouncing around behind the bar as Tifa straightened up, while Cid sat on the other side of the counter, 'Irishing up' his tea. Cloud was nowhere to be seen, because his presence puts a cramp in the VinTif style, and most VinTif writers usually find a way to get rid of him before things get hot and heavy anyways. I am merely eliminating the need for poor Cloud's untimely disappearance, and/or death.

That, and he was a deadbeat.

Vincent was sitting in the farthest booth, in the darkest corner possible, casually sipping at his glass of very classy red wine. It was a choice Merlot, and he picked it for just such a reason; in fact, he liked it so much, it was all he could ever be seen drinking.

Ever.

He might have joined the others, but he was too busy sulking. It might come as a shock to you, the reader, to learn that he was not brooding over Lucrecia, but over someone else. Specifically, his friend and barmaid, Tifa Lockhart. You see, she had been sending him mixed signals lately, and he was having trouble interpreting her actions. They had become close over the years, and he had considered her an admirable woman, strong and nurturing, with a wealth of care for all those around her. He had even begun to consider her a friend, a title he did not throw around so casually as the Costan waitresses threw around their sex. But lately, he had come to suspect that she might be looking for something more.

In reality, she was being quite obvious about her interest in him, but Vincent was so mired in his denial that he could not see through her. But I won't tell him that if you don't.

Just as Vincent was wrestling with his demons...literally...Rude walked into the bar and sat down at the counter.

Truth be told, Vincent hated the man. While Rude was one of the more competent of his generation of Turks, he was still a careless youth in Vincent's eyes, and paired with Reno, the two proved exactly how much of an atrocity the association had become. Vincent was severely threatened by Rude's stoic badassed-ness as well, and to make things even worse, he had a crush on Tifa. If he could, Vincent would light the man on fire, but seeing as that would dampen his chances of scoring with Tifa, he chose not to.

Fortunately, Vincent could not see Rude, because Rude had his haterblockers on.

Tifa set about whipping up the usual for Rude, while Cid began to tell him of a particularly nasty incident that occurred two weeks before, involving hot sludge and an overheated junkheap.

"...an' so we pulled over, but the only place with a hose outside was this strip joint..."

Rude nodded silently, Tifa busied herself with the dishes, Yuffie bounced around some more, and Cid continued to tell his story. Vincent merely thought he was talking to the girls.

"...I take the cap off, an' all this grimy shit flies out all ov'r the spotless luxury sedan next t' us!" Cid finished with a laugh, lighting up yet another cigarette. "I about died laughing!"

Rude let out a short laugh that sounded more like a snort, then finished up his scotch. He left Tifa a considerably large amount of money before walking out the door and rounding the corner. Yuffie rushed over to the money and excitedly began counting it before Tifa even had a chance to notice he had gone.

"Whoa, Tif!" the shinobi exclaimed, a huge grin evident on her face, "I think he likes you!"

Vincent sat up suddenly in his seat, looking to the source of the commotion. Paranoia set in, and he feared that the two of them had figured out his secret.

"I don't think so, Yuffs. He was just being nice..."

The ninja frowned. "Liar. Look at this gigantic tip he left you!" She waved the notes in front of Tifa's face. "And one of them has his number on it! See? See?"

Vincent tilted his head in confusion. He didn't see anybody come in...

Tifa plucked the bills from her young friend's grasp and examined them. "My...you're right. I never would have thought..."

The girl bounced up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down...

"So? What are you going to do about it?"

She clapped her hands together over and over and over and over...

"I don't think...anything, really..." the martial artist said quietly, seeming deep in thought. Yuffie frowned again, trying to figure out why Tifa would just throw away a chance with a sexy bald man like Rude. The man had so many piercings, and those were just his ears...

"Oh, I got it! It's someone else, isn't it?" The accusation came swiftly. "Is it Cloud?"

Tifa smiled to herself. "It is someone else. No...it's not Cloud..."

This earned her a low whistle from Cid, who then turned back to his tea and left the girl to her thoughts. She dreamt of crimson eyes, soft black hair, a smooth and velvety voice, and delicate features. His face was simply gorgeous, though she had only seen it a handful of times in over three years, and his perfectly sculpted visage left her wondering about his nearly indeterminable origins. He was simply beautiful, though not feminine. Her love was pale like the moonlight and carried sadness in his heart. How she wished to heal him, to comfort him, to take away that pain...

"Then who?" the girl's whiny pitch interrupted the bartender as she pried for more information.

Reluctantly, Tifa bent down and whispered in her ear, not wanting the other two men to hear. "Don't say anything..." she paused. "It's Vincent."

Tifa was unsure of what reaction to expect from Yuffie. The ninja was always undecided when it came to Vincent, but one thing was for certain; she was never, ever neutral when it came to the gunslinger. Some days she swore up and down that she was in love with him, and others she thought he was the creepiest thing to ever walk the face of the planet. For all intensive purposes, today it is the latter.

Yuffie made a face. "Whatever, girl," she said nonchalantly, and strode away to tinker with the tacky memorabilia littering the tavern walls.

Vincent had overheard their conversation, and he was currently bemoaning his fate. When did she find the time to become interested in someone else? She couldn't have meant him. No, that would be blasphemous. He was a living corpse, a beast, a monster, an abomination of unnatural science, a textbook example of man versus nature, absolutely hideous, not to mention that the almost imperceptible white scar that ran down the length of his torso made him absolutely untouchable...

He was simply the ugliest thing to ever live.

But let's not forget definitively male.

...And clearly still in denial.

He had to simply know when to cut his losses. Perhaps he could go bitching and moaning to Veld, and he might take him in. Sure, there had been a time in his life when he had thought he might find a nice girl and settle down, maybe start a family and live happily ever after. But eternal loneliness was alright too. At least he always knew where his place was with Veld.

It was on bottom, of course.

Vincent was just about to run off and hole up somewhere for the rest of the given timeline when he heard quiet footsteps approaching his table. He turned his head to see Tifa Lockhart making her way over to him with a fluid grace uncommon for most women, something he knew had to have been from her martial arts training, and which affected her every movement and sometimes made him gawk like a slack-jawed yokel. This he always managed to hide quite well beneath his cloak.

She slid into the seat across from him and folded her hands in her lap, fidgeting every now and then as his presence made her nervous and completely shattered all the confidence she had at any other time. She was always so capable, so strong-willed and independent, but around Vincent, she was reduced to a bumbling idiot who always had her foot in her mouth. Naturally, she was hesitant to speak, and she took a moment to think of something clever to say.

"So, Vincent. Um...what are you?"

Idiot.

He raised one especially elegant, dark eyebrow at her, feeling more than a little offended in light of his "condition".

Tifa held her hands up defensively. "That's not what I meant! I...oh, Odin, that came out wrong..."

Vincent crossed his arms and waited patiently for her to recover.

"What I meant to say was...where do you come from? What's your family background?" Her eyes were hopeful as she finished her lame request, and he couldn't help but indulge her.

"I...wait. Is this a Yuffentine?" He eyed her with skepticism, as he was truly unaware of his present circumstances.

Tifa shook her head vehemently, saying, "No, no, no! ...She is disgusted with you today."

This made Vincent happy. It gave him some hope. If Tifa had ended up with someone other than himself, he would have most undoubtedly been paired with Yuffie, because Vincent never attends a cast party stag, as the fanwriters just can't seem to leave him alone. But seeing as he was not going to end up with the ninja, he was beginning to grow some confidence in Tifa's presence, and he thought that perhaps he might get the girl he was after this time. Besides, if he was stuck in a Yuffentine, he would have to lie and say he was full-blooded Wutaiian in order to make the story run more smoothly, and then pull another all-nighter learning their customs. He sighed in relief.

"Very well then. I was born in Midgar. My mother's father was Wutaiian, and her mother Nibel. My father was Costan."

His friend tilted her head in recognition. If not for his death pallor, she could imagine him being a little darker, and the corners of his eyes were fairly narrowed, yet they were big and beautiful like the Costan native's. And every now and then, she thought she could detect a flush on his skin at the mildest change of temperature, a trait she herself carried, as did many of the other children she grew up with in the mountains. She could definitely see it. And once again, she was out of things to say, and she was sure he was exhausted himself, what with all those words he had just used.

"Vincent?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you like to kiss me?"

Tifa meant well, but unfortunately, the collective fanwriter's consciousness is of the persuasion that when out of things to say, bed the nearest person. And since there was no way Vincent was going to refuse that, so commenced the mandatory abrupt and fluffy ending as the two of them headed out to the docks to begin the first day of the rest of their lives, but not without playing a little tonsil hockey beforehand. Said days would consist of him treating her like a princess in exchange for later sex in his coffin, for as we all know, the macabre is very, very enticing.

**End**

_Final Fantasy VII and its characters © 1997 Square-Enix Co., Ltd._


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